Kurt's Spa Day
by vcg73
Summary: Kurt is stressed (Because seriously, who has more cause to be?) so Rachel, Santana and Adam decide to remedy the situation in their own way. Story is set some time around Season 4's "Lights Out" but may be considered AU. - Rating changed to M for the last chapter. If you object to Kadam!Sexytimes, just read through Ch 3 and pretend the story ended there!
1. Chapter 1

"Have you two noticed that Kurt has been rather run down and out of sorts lately? I've been dropping some fairly broad hints that I'm happy to listen if he needs to talk, but so far nothing. He just tells me I'm sweet to worry about him, then usually changes the subject."

Adam's comment provoked concerned looks from Rachel and Santana. He had run into them at NYADA's campus coffee shop, where Santana had dropped by to have lunch with her roommate, and been invited to join them. Kurt's friends had been making more of an effort lately to get to know Adam since it appeared that the two were beginning to grow serious.

"He seems fine to me," Rachel said at the same moment Santana offered, "Yeah, he's been super stressed out lately."

The two girls exchanged a startled look as they pieced through their comingled words.

"Kurt is stressed?" Rachel said, her eyes wide. "Are you sure? What does he have to be stressed about?"

"What does-" Santana cut herself off, unable to even complete the sentence as exasperation overtook her. She and Kurt had recently been bonding over their newly discovered mutual love for '80s sitcoms and, as a result, had started talking more. "For God's sake, Berry! Try turning off _The Rachel Show_ for five minutes and paying attention to the other people in the room. Kurt's taking six classes a week to your four and also working part time, while you remain the only one of us who's never worked a day in her life."

"My dads want me to be able to focus on my career!" Rachel cried, flushing with irritation that she was unable to deny the comment.

Santana waved away the protest. "Whatever. We're not talking about you, we're talking about Kurt. The classes and work hours would be enough to stress out most people, but then you throw in the fact that he's trying to navigate a new relationship while doubting his appeal at every turn thanks to the shitty way the walking oil-slick treated him, and then just for kicks, throw in spending at least part of every day worried to death about his dad. And it _surprises_ you that he's not all puppies and rainbow glitter? If I was in his place, I'd have strangled somebody by now. Probably you."

Alarm and a measure of hurt filled Rachel's eyes. "Wait. Is Burt having heart problems again? Why would Kurt tell you and not me?"

Unable to resist the temptation, Santana's hand shot out and slapped Rachel upside the back of her head, drawing forth an indignant, "Ow!"

Santana calmly took a sip of her mocha."You don't want to risk the wrath of Snix? Don't say stupid things. And may I add that your personal spy network? Could seriously use some improvement. Don't you have Gigantor on speed-dial for things like this?"

"We haven't been talking as often lately," Rachel muttered. "He told me some girl in his Intro to English Lit class was hot."

Santana rolled her eyes and mumbled something in Spanish that had neither of her companions feeling safe enough to ask for a translation.

"Anyway, to get back to the relevant part of this conversation, it's not Mr. Hummel's heart. And no, Kurt didn't tell me anything. Not that I didn't ask, but you know as well as I do that getting personal information out of him when he's brooding is about as easy as getting _you_ to give up the Streisand addiction." She glanced at Adam, seeing the distressed look on his face, and gave his forearm a pat. "Don't sweat it, Gordon Ramsey. You're new here. We've had four years to figure out what makes Lady Hummel tick."

Properly chastised, Rachel asked, "So, what's going on?"

"Well, according to Brittany, who heard it from Lady Lips, who heard it from the hobbit . . . who, by the way has apparently turned full-on stalker when it comes to Kurt and his family . . . Mr. Hummel has been fighting cancer since around Christmas. He's been on chemo and he's going to be having surgery soon to remove the tumor."

Rachel and Adam both gasped and for once Santana did not look triumphant over having ferretted out information ahead of everyone else. She just looked sad. "I know. It sucks balls, doesn't it? Burt Hummel is the coolest parental I've ever met in my life and he means the absolute world to Kurt. The two of them are like a weird two-man army, ready and able to take on the world as long they each know the other one has go his back."

"Kurt told me that when he was 17 his father had a severe heart attack," Adam said softly. "I could tell that he's still completely terrified of losing him. He mentioned that his dad had been sick recently, but the way he said it made it sound as if we were talking a bout of the flu."

"Hey, be happy. The fact that he said that much is a damn good sign. It means he's starting to trust you with the big things," Santana told him, a hint of approval in her tone. "You must be doing something right. Probably more than one something if all the noises I've heard floating from his bedroom when you stay over are any indication."

As Adam flushed an uncomfortable shade of crimson, Rachel shook her head, still stuck on the bombshell she had received. "I just can't believe that Burt has been sick for _months_ and nobody told me! Not even Finn! He had plenty of opportunities to talk about it on Valentine's Day and there's no way he didn't know. Burt is his step-father!"

Santana shrugged. "My guess is that his parents asked him to keep it on the down-low. It's not like you guys are together anymore, so he's obliged to keep you in the loop. I wouldn't know either if it hadn't turned out that Golem is as bad about keeping his mouth shut as he is about keeping his dick in his pants. As for Kurt, he'll be mad that we butted into his business, but then hopefully he'll be too relieved that he doesn't have to go through this alone any more to hold a grudge."

"Do you really think so?" Adam said hopefully.

"I do," Rachel agreed with a nod. "He plays things close to the vest, but it must have been killing him to have to hide his feelings from me all this time. God, poor Kurt!"

The other two sighed at their friend's self-absorption, but nodded.

"There's nothing we can do to change what's happening, especially if he doesn't feel like discussing it," Adam said, frowning into the distance, "but perhaps we could do something to help release a measure of Kurt's stress."

"Oh, no. I am not into two-boys-one-girl threesomes . . . anymore."

Rachel's nose wrinkled. "Santana, that's disgusting!"

Adam chuckled. He was growing used to Santana's blunt, heavily sexualized manner of speaking. "Well, that wasn't quite what I had in mind. And before you suggest it, I also wasn't considering two-girls-one-boy, or any other variation of a collegiate orgy. Although I suppose if Kurt were interested, we could at least give it proper consideration."

As Rachel made incoherent noises of protest, a grin of approval lit Santana's face. "I'm starting to take a liking to you, James Bond. You're not nearly as prissy as I assumed you'd be."

"Thank you, I think. What I was going to suggest," Adam continued, having discovered that plunging forward was the best way to get through any conversation with these two, "is that I've heard Kurt mention more than once how much he enjoys makeovers and spa services, and that he's given those treatments to his assorted girlfriends since early high school days."

"He does give a great manicure," Rachel sighed longingly, fingertips twitching in memory.

Santana all but moaned, "And the neck massages? _Oh. My._ _God_. He used to sell five-minute massages to the Cheerio girls for ten bucks a pop. You'd think that would be a rip-off, but nobody who tried one ever failed to go back for more. I think we supplied his wardrobe budget for two years over the six months he was on the squad. Freaking _paradise_."

"So, why don't we three all return the favor, then?" Adam went on, grinning brightly. "For free, in this case. We can't take away the _cause_ of Kurt's anxiety, but a little personal pampering might help alleviate the effects. And if we're honest with him about how much we know concerning Kurt's personal situation, perhaps he'll return the favor and be more willing to talk about it."

"Or he'll murder us in our beds for butting in again after we promised not to," Santana sighed gloomily. Then she perked back up. "But either way, we won't be forced to watch him mope anymore!"

Rachel chose to ignore her roommate's optimism (?) in favor of excitedly bouncing in her seat and saying, "I still remember how to make Kurt's favorite oatmeal and aloe facial mask. It does wonders for your skin. Oh, and I still have some of that imported shampoo and deep conditioning rinse that he got me for my birthday last year!"

"I'll handle the mani/pedi," Santana declared, extending her left hand and examining her own neatly shaped and polished nails with evident satisfaction. "My auntie Christina has worked in a nail salon for over twenty years and she taught me all the tricks. She gave me a full set of tools and a whirlpool foot bath for graduation last year. His highness is going to be my willing slave forever once I get through giving him the full Lopez special."

Noting that she seemed just a little _too_ happy with that idea, Adam shook his head. "Face, hair, hands, feet . . . I guess that leaves the body for me then."

"And don't you just hate _that_ idea," Santana chortled. "Just try to keep it family-friendly while we're in the room, will you? You two boys can play massage-parlor all you like once you're in the Hummel harem. Just don't go rubbing Kurt's magic lamp in front of us. I really don't need to see his genie popping out to grant you your favorite wishes."

Laughter burst from Adam's lips as the metaphor became increasingly absurd and innuendo laden. "I'll do my best," he chuckled. "I do happen to have some very nicely scented massage oil and two talented hands, however. What that may lead to, I can't be responsible for. Though in all honesty, I'm hoping it leads to a good restful sleep. I feel sure he could use one."

The tenderness in Adam's voice and expression killed off any remaining desire to tease him. Whether they made it for the long haul or not, Adam was a good man who cared immensely for their friend, and Kurt showed every sign of returning that regard. That was enough for now.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**If anyone wonders why Rachel gets the heart to heart in this chapter instead of Adam, it's because she's known Kurt the longest and best of the three. Also, I needed to address the series' habit of ignoring Kurt's triumphs and tragedies in favor of showing him always comforting/supporting Rachel. It sometimes makes me wonder if she even knows what's going on in his life.**

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Trudging past the park next to his neighborhood subway station early Friday evening, Kurt let go a breath of relief at the comforting thought that his apartment building was just three more blocks up the street. This had been a long week, like all of them seemed to be lately. Between school and work and keeping regular tabs on things back home in Lima, Kurt was growing ever more exhausted.

He was starting to really regret the over-enthusiasm that had gripped him when he was finally invited to join the ranks of the NYADA elite. Feeling as though he was already lagging far behind Rachel after missing out on the fall semester, Kurt had filled his schedule to the brim. He had signed up for six classes, assuming that he could handle that schedule easily. After all, he had been taking seven classes every day at McKinley, plus glee club, and NYADA classes typically met only 2-3 times per week.

What he had not considered in his initial zeal was that college classes were much more intense, as well as being an average 90 minutes apiece. There were no skater subjects here. Each of his classes demanded every bit of effort and attention and participation he could give them. Not to mention the homework! Books, essays, performance prep, performance reviews for other students, drawing and sewing . . . the list went on. On top of his two extra-curriculars and his ongoing job at Vogue, cramming his class schedule so full just might have been the dumbest decision he had ever made.

Lately, he had begun to consider taking an Incomplete on one or two courses and finishing them up at a later time, just to get some breathing room. He worried that that might make him look like a quitter, though. If Carmen Tibideaux or someone else from the Dean's office happened to look at his records for some reason, might they be able to reconsider his admission? Or worse, might they believe that they had been wrong to allow him this chance in the first place!

Besides, what subject would he drop? So far, he loved every single class. Vocal Performance was a subject he was passionate about and fully intended to take for all four years at NYADA. Costuming was fun and went hand in hand with the learning curve of his ongoing internship at Vogue. Dramatic Interpretation 101 was a required freshman course, so dropping that was not an option. History of Musical Theater was an elective, but an important one for any Musical Theater major. Writing Seminar was expanding his vocabulary and giving him great ideas for future writing projects, a subject he had recently regained interest in, so he was reluctant to put it aside. Intro to Dance was a possibility, but Kurt already knew he would keep on with it. It was _tough_, requiring muscles he had forgotten he ever possessed, but it was also very satisfying and it was helping him to regain confidence in his body that he not truly felt since he was a young child. Even his few months with the McKinley Cheerios had not accomplished that goal, because at 16 Kurt was still struggling to adjust to his rapidly and awkwardly growing adolescent self.

Quitting his job at the magazine was absolutely not an option, and dropping his two extra-curriculars hurt even to think about. No matter how appealing it sounded to his overworked limbs and tired brain right now, he had started making some good friends in both the Tennessee Williams club and the Adam's Apples, and if he dropped them he might never get another chance to spend time with those people, since many were upperclassmen with whom he shared no classes. Not to mention that quitting would take away opportunities to sing and openly flirt with Adam! That was definitely not something he was willing to lose.

"It's only for a few more weeks," he muttered aloud, walking up the front steps of his apartment building and into the building's dingy gray interior. He fumbled in his bag for his keys and hoped he had not forgotten them again, especially since he knew that the girls were both out tonight. "Just suck it up and sign up for a lighter course-load next term."

Assuming _this_ term didn't kill him first.

Rolling his head, he grimaced as a painful kink made itself known in his neck. Cassie July had really kicked their asses in today's dance class. He'd have to take advantage of the empty loft and indulge in a long hot shower and some early sleep tonight.

A sudden growl had Kurt absently rubbing a hand over his complaining stomach. Lunch had been a long time ago and dance class had burned right through whatever calories he'd had to spare. Okay, fine. Shower, dinner, then sleep. (Assuming he ever got inside the apartment. Where the hell were those keys_?_)

A feeling of sadness washed over Kurt at the realization that he would be eating Friday night dinner alone tonight. Thanks to his family's long-standing tradition, doing so just never felt right. Fridays were supposed to be about conversation and laughter and catching up with loved ones. He had no choice, though. The girls were out, Adam had some kind of study-group event tonight, and his Dad and Carole were far away in Lima. Both of them were absolutely hopeless when it came to Skype, so there was no chance he could call and talk them into remotely "joining" him for dinner. In fact, they would probably just be sitting down to their own meal right now. Finn might be home as well, assuming he wasn't busy being the life of someone's party again.

God, he missed his family.

Kurt grunted a small, "Ah!" as he finally discovered his key chain hiding at the very bottom of the satchel sandwiched between two books. Quickly undoing the three door locks (Santana had put in two extra after moving in, loudly lecturing him and Rachel about the stupidity of having only a single lock on the door in a place like Bushwick.) he let himself inside.

"_Surprise_!" three voices bellowed the moment Kurt opened the door.

"Aaah!" he yelped, nearly falling back over the threshold in shock, and holding his messenger bag up in front of his body like a shield before he realized that there were no intruders. It was only his two roommates and his boyfriend.

Lowering the bag slowly, Kurt ventured back inside, closing the door behind him and looking around.

Adam, Santana and Rachel stood together in the middle of the apartment, grinning proudly about something. All of the living room furniture had been pushed aside to give pride of place to Santana's ratty recliner – not so ratty anymore thanks to Kurt's sewing machine and makeover skills – now positioned in the center of the floor where it rested on a mat of newspapers. An extension cord and a six-socket surge protector sat beside it, holding a plugged in portable foot bath and the cord to a black, quilted-cloth . . . something, that rested against the recliner's padded seat.

"Is that a car seat?" he asked, taking a better look.

Rachel rolled her eyes and sprang forward, grabbing him by the arm and leading him over to examine their work more closely. "It's a massage cushion, silly! Welcome to your own personal Bushwick loft day-spa!"

"One time only offer," Santana hastened to add, crossing her arms over her chest and drawing Kurt's attention to the fact that she was wearing a full length apron and had drawn her long hair up into a bun. Rachel was done up in a similar manner.

Kurt looked to Adam. He too was wearing an apron but one detail was very different, causing a helpless smile to tug at Kurt's lips. "You're not wearing a shirt," he observed, admiring the well defined muscles of shoulders, arms and upper chest on display.

Adam grinned, his deep set blue eyes twinkling merrily. "That's because we turned up all the heaters to keep you comfortable this evening. I hope you approve, as I'll be in charge of giving you your massage tonight after the girls are done. In the mean time, I'm finishing up a very nice dinner I've prepared in your honor." He plucked playfully at the shoulder strap of his apron, a frilled red and orange gingham monstrosity that Rachel had brought with her from home. A leftover from her one and only Home-Ec class in high school. "Wouldn't want to make a sweaty mess of myself, now would I?"

"No," Kurt agreed slowly, his pupils dilating at the mere suggestion of Adam sweat-covered and messy. "No, we wouldn't want that..."

The girls both snickered at his distracted tone and the way his eyes continued to follow Adam as the other man moved to the stove to stir whatever he had left simmering, revealing the broad, tanned expanse of his bare back.

"Wipe your drool, Pavlov," Santana teased, taking Kurt's other arm and helping Rachel lead him away from the appealing sight and into the apartment's small bathroom.

Kurt pouted in disappointment as he lost sight of Adam, then gasped when he realized that the bathroom had also been converted into part of his friends' make-shift spa. A plastic patio lounge chair – and God only knew where they'd dug _that_ thing up – had been positioned next to the bathtub. Next to it was a short stool and a tray that held facial cleanser, toner, assorted cotton balls and a small bowl full of dark green goop that he instantly recognized as his own special recipe. "You're giving me a facial!" he exclaimed in delight.

"And a shampoo and scalp massage," Rachel agreed with a grin, taking the school bag he was still clutching out of his hands and setting it safely aside.

Without further ado, she and Santana directed him to kick off his shoes, then promptly began stripping their bewildered friend out of his coat, scarf, gloves and two layers of shirts, leaving him in just his sleeveless undershirt and patterned gray trousers.

"Oh, re_lax_, Hummel," Santana said, rolling her eyes when Kurt gave a startled squawk of protest as she began attacking the front closure of his belt next. "I'm not going to run out and sell all your crap on the rainbow market. I'm just putting them in your room. It's not like you're hiding anything that the rest of us haven't seen before, and we all know you'd have an aneurysm if anybody slopped water, or massage oil, or that disgusting Exorcist-vomit facial all over your precious designer clothing."

Realizing that she was right, Kurt unfastened his fly - because seriously, some things a man just did _not_ need his girlfriends' help with - and allowed Santana to wrestle his $800 Comme de Garcon pants (God, he loved the perks of working for Vogue.) off his body. She swiped his black silk-blend socks just for good measure, giving him a firm slap on the ass and a teasing wink as she left the bathroom with all of his outer clothes in hand.

Kurt crossed his arms, feeling more than a little self-conscious standing in front of Rachel Berry wearing nothing more than a tank top and some dark red boxer-briefs, but beyond thankful that he had not made any of his more risqué underwear choices this morning. He relaxed when she reached toward the floor behind her work station and produced Kurt's favorite gray and white striped toweling robe, smiling understandingly as she held it up for him to put on.

"I thought you might want this," she said. "I know I would."

"Thanks, Rachel. For all of it. I don't understand why you guys are doing this, especially since I thought you all had plans tonight, but it's really sweet of you," he told her, carefully settling down into the alarmingly creaky lounger and resting his neck on the towel-covered edge of the bathtub as Rachel turned on the water and took down the mobile shower hose.

"We didn't really have plans. We just let you think we did to keep you distracted while we set all of this up. It was Adam's idea, actually," she admitted, running warm water through Kurt's hair and combing her fingers through the thick locks to loosen the hold of hairspray, mousse and the other styling products he used to keep his perfect coif intact throughout a long day. "He noticed that you'd been looking a little worn out and stressed lately and we all talked it over and decided that we wanted to help you forget about everything for a while."

Kurt hummed with contentment when Rachel poured a dollop of shampoo into his hair and began working the pleasantly scented liquid in gently, giving him a nice scalp massage while she washed. "That's so nice. I _have_ been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, with work and classes and everything. You know how it is."

"I do _now_," she said quietly. "I wish you'd told us, Kurt."

"Told you what?"

She paused, looking a little guilty as Kurt raised his head just a bit and opened his eyes, careful not to get soap in them. "You know, Santana still talks to Brittany."

"I know that. So do I. So what?" he said, honestly not getting what she was hinting at.

Rachel sighed. "Brittany is dating _Sam_? Sam_, _who is currently best friends with…"

"Blaine," he filled in, grimacing when he followed her trail of breadcrumbs and realized, "He told Sam about my dad, didn't he?"

She nodded.

"And of course Sam told Brittany, and God knows how many people _she_ told, and now the news has followed the Glee gossip chain all the way to you and Santana. Damn it, Blaine promised me he'd stay quiet about this."

"I understand how you feel, but Kurt that's a big secret to keep. And you _shouldn't_ have stayed quiet about it," Rachel told him, trying to be stern but showing mostly hurt feelings. "Not with us. We love you. _I_ love you! I had to find out through some random comment from Santana that you've been living with the knowledge that your dad has cancer for the last three months." Kurt flinched just hearing her say the words, but Rachel was running on a full head of steam now and failed to notice. "My best friend's father could have been _dying_, and I had no idea! Do you know how that makes me feel? To know that my best friend has been going through that kind of fear and misery and stress all alone because he didn't feel that he could trust me to help him through it?"

Tears had formed in her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks as she choked out the last few words.

Ignoring his sudsy hair, and the awkwardness of his seat being lower than Rachel's Kurt sat up and gathered her into his arms. He rubbed her back gently as she cried. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to shut you out, it's just that . . . it wasn't _about_ you. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but this is my dad we're talking about. I didn't want to talk about him being sick because it just felt so much worse every time I had to say it out loud."

"Blaine knew."

"Blaine knows because he was with Dad when I found out at Christmas, and I had to tell Isabelle because she's my boss and she's been so great about letting me have extra time off when I needed it. I just wanted one safe space where I didn't have to think or talk about how scared I felt, or worry about how my news might affect other people. Sometimes I . . . I know you don't mean to, but sometimes it feels as if there's no room for my feelings in our friendship, like nothing is ever about _me_, and this . . . this just had to be, okay? I didn't have room for anybody else's worry."

He was crying now, Rachel's tears having triggered the feelings that he had been keeping bottled up for such a long time. Rachel's arms held him tightly, safely, as he finally loosened his iron grip and wept away some of the long-held pain.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry! I had no idea I was making you feel that way. Of course there's room for you, there's _always_ room for you. I never meant to shut you out, or to have you shut me out. Shhh, it's okay."

After a few minutes, Kurt managed to calm down and pull away from his friend, wiping his eyes with the heel of his right hand. It had felt good to let go and just be honest with Rachel for once. He glanced up at her, intending to say something else, but then he laughed instead, realizing that he had left a huge blob of shampoo suds on her face and neck.

When she followed the direction of his gaze with her hand, Rachel made a disgusted face and then she began laughing too. When she flicked the half-dissolved soap suds back at him, their giggles became even worse. It was a different kind of emotional release, but one that felt equally good to both of them.

Finally, Rachel gave Kurt's shoulder a little push, indicating that he should lie back so she could rinse out the remaining soap.

"I really am sorry for not talking to you more," Kurt said again, settling back and closing his eyes again. "I honestly do trust you, Rachel. This situation with Dad just felt too overwhelming at first, and then I let myself be distracted by starting school, and meeting Adam, and having Santana move in with us, and then the whole fiasco with Brody, and . . . I grabbed on to whatever I could find to avoid thinking about it, I guess. And after a while, I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"I understand," she replied, massaging some conditioner into his hair. "I really do. If it was one of my dads, I probably would have been crying for three months straight, but I know that isn't your way. You have different methods of dealing with stress that don't always include us. I get that, but just know that we're here for you whenever you do need someone. All of us are. You don't have to talk a lot about it if you don't want to, but please don't shut us out again. That's all we ask."

Gulping back the urge to cry again, he managed a tight smile. "Understood."

"How _is_ your dad, Kurt?" she ventured. "Finn never said anything either, so does that mean it's safe to assume that he's doing okay?"

At this, Kurt smiled genuinely. "Yeah, he really is. His doctors say that he's responding really well to the chemo and that he'll be ready to have the tumor removed soon. After that, if it hasn't spread, there should be just a few more follow up treatments before he's in the clear."

Rachel heaved a relieved sigh as she began rinsing away the conditioner. "That's fantastic. I'm so happy for you. For _all_ of you."

Kurt did not respond other than an agreeable grunt. He wanted to be happy right along with her, but the pessimistic part of him was afraid he might jinx the recovery if he started celebrating too early. Until his dad personally showed him a doctor's report stating that the cancer was 100% gone, Kurt would remain braced against the possibility that he could still lose him.

"Okay, then!" Rachel said, wrapping Kurt's dripping wet head in a towel and drawing him up a bit while she clicked the lounge-chair's headrest section back into place. "Now that we've got that out of the way, it's time for you to just relax and enjoy an evening of being pampered and primped and manicured and fed by the finest selection of performing arts students that New York has to offer!"

He laughed and began vigorously toweling his hair. "Your ad campaign needs a little work, but I'm willing to try it. Let's leave the facial until after dinner, though. That mixture benefits from a little extra time to breathe and whatever Adam is cooking smells like it might be just about done."

"Fine. I'll just do it while Santana is working on your nails."

Rachel began laughing again when Kurt lowered his towel, revealing hair that was fluffing out in every direction, making him look like a giant brunet dandelion. She added a little of the leave-in conditioner he favored and began finger-combing his hair back into a semblance of order, looking a little surprised when Kurt just smiled and allowed her to take care of him instead of slapping her hands away to do the job himself.

For once, though, Kurt did not _want_ to take care of himself, or worry that he might look less than presentable. He was surrounded by people who loved him and he knew that he could trust them with a less than perfect facade. Pressing a kiss against Rachel's cheek, he stood up and helped her dismantle the lounge-chair and clean up a few splashes of water and soap that had splattered about during their emotional scene.

Just as they finished, Adam's voice rang out, "Supper's ready when you are! Do I need to leave it in the oven to warm for a bit?"

"No, we're ready!" Kurt called back, putting his wet towel on the rack to dry and opening the bathroom door. Seeing his boyfriend on the other side, looking so handsome in his shirtless apron and a pair of patterned oven mitts, Kurt threw his arms around Adam's shoulders and hugged him tightly before planting a kiss against his smiling lips. "You're amazing, Adam. Thank you for doing all of this, and I'm sorry I haven't been more open about what's been going on with me. I'll tell you everything later, I promise."

"As long as I know you're okay, that's all I need," Adam told him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "I'm here for you, darling. However and in whatever capacity you require."

Kurt kissed him again. "I know. Thank you."

"Excuse me, I think I'm about to start puking up rainbows," Santana snarked, shoving past the moony-eyed lovers and into the bathroom where she began vigorously washing her hands. "Knock it off or _I'm_ going to need a spa day just to get rid of all the second-hand sexual tension floating around in here."

Letting go of Adam, Kurt followed Santana and wrapped his arms around her waist, hooking his chin over her shoulder to smile at her reflection. She rolled her eyes and tried to pretend she was not enjoying the hug, but gave herself away by melting back into his embrace, her dark eyes returning his smile in the mirror. She reached up and petted his forearms, using him as a convenient hand towel even as she returned his gesture of affection. "Yeah, yeah, we're wonderful and you love us more than all the other Teletubbies in the world. We get it."

Kurt laughed and let her go with one final squeeze to express the gratitude she clearly did not want to hear spoken out loud. "Fine. Let's eat. I'm starving to death and now that I've had a taste of the Bushwick Salon, I don't want to miss a moment of what you've all planned for me."

"Now we're talking," Santana said, nodding approval to Rachel for her successful execution of phase one.

Rachel just grinned and hugged herself with delight, starry-eyed with success as she watched Kurt wrap his arm around Adam's waist and walk out with him, already looking much better than he had just half an hour ago.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner proved to be home-made chicken and eggplant parmesan. Adam had made Rachel a smaller meat and dairy-free version in a separate dish. Her dietary preferences had been changing like the weather ever since moving to New York, but she had been on one of her vegan periods the first time she and Adam had met and so he had cooked accordingly.

"I hope it tastes all right," he told the other three cautiously as they all settled around the dining room table, Kurt seated between Adam and Santana with Rachel directly across from him. "I've fixed this dish using whole grain pasta any number of times, but this is the first attempt at recreating my grandmother's signature garlic cream sauce using soy milk for the base."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Rachel reassured him, bravely taking a hearty bite and then smiling as the flavor washed over her tongue. She swallowed and declared, "This is delicious! And thank you so much for fixing me a personal dish, Adam. It wasn't necessary but it was so thoughtful."

"He's a very thoughtful guy," Kurt agreed, planting a kiss of approval on one chiseled cheekbone before happily digging into his own portion of the feast. Adam had made this for him once before and he had loved it. It did taste a little different with soy milk, but the blend of herbs and other ingredients used to season the dish more than made up for the switch. "And she's right. It is delicious."

Santana gave him a thumbs-up as she finished her first mouthful. "Not bad at all. Definitely an improvement over most of the crap Rachel has tried to force on us."

Rachel just tossed her head and ignored the comment. She was unfortunately aware that her cooking skills were somewhat lacking. Kurt had been doing most of the cooking since they moved in together, since her dads pretty much considered turning on the stove a ritual best reserved for special occasions and high holidays. She was getting better, but there was a reason that Kurt had had a fire extinguisher installed right next to the oven.

Adam blushed at all the praise, clearly delighted by the reaction. The meal continued with little small talk but plenty of clinks and slurps, giving an even better testament to his culinary skill.

When the last dish was scraped clean, Kurt cleared his throat for attention. "Um, I said this to Rachel already, but I wanted to thank all of you guys for tonight. It really means a lot to me that you would do all of this, and I'm very sorry I haven't been sharing what's going on in my life. It's just; I've been having a really tough time these past few months. Between what happened with Blaine, and having my second chance at a college audition thrown back in my face, only to get another chance out of the blue, and then finding out _just_ as I started to think maybe life was looking up that my dad had been diagnosed with prostate cancer, I . . ."

His voice choked off, leaving him struggling for a moment. Santana and Adam each spontaneously reached over to grab one of his hands in silent support.

After a moment, Kurt went on, "I tried to keep it all to myself because _not_ talking about it felt like the only way to cope. Well, that and trying to stay so busy that I wouldn't have any energy left for worrying." He sighed deeply. "Needless to say, that hasn't exactly been working out lately. Instead of worrying less, I've just felt like I was going to implode under the added stress."

"Guess me dropping in on your life didn't exactly help with that."

Kurt flashed Santana quick smile. "I didn't really mind, once the initial shock wore off. You kind of grow on a person. I mean, I could've done without you pawing through all of my stuff like you were at a bargain-basement rummage sale, and you could have tried just asking me what was going on instead of grilling everyone back home for information on my private business, but I know you well enough to know that your heart was in the right place. Probably."

This less than ringing endorsement of her character drew a scowl, but she did not try to deny any of it.

"Look, you're my friend, Kurt. Whether you like it or not, you're family now and that's important to me. I try to look after my own, but you wouldn't talk to us, so I had to take matters into my own hands." She shrugged, looking more contrite than either of her roommates was used to. "But if I added to the shit load of stress you were under . . . well, I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean it, okay? You and your dad have been really cool to me over the years, especially when I first got forced out of the closet by that pizza mogul and your dumb-ass brother. You've been through enough crap in the last couple of years without this. How's your dad doing, anyway?"

"Better," Kurt told her, giving her hand a squeeze that conveyed both forgiveness and thanks. She squeezed back tightly before letting go. "When I saw him in February, he was really worn-out and sick from the cancer treatments, but he's been feeling really good lately. Carole says he's been eating well and exercising regularly again. His energy level is back on track and he's going back to work. His final doctor's appointment is in a couple of weeks and I've already arranged with Isabelle and the NYADA registrar to take that week off so I can go home to Lima and be with him."

"Won't that cause you to miss mid-terms?" Rachel asked anxiously.

Kurt shook his head. "Winter term students don't have mid-terms for another month yet. I've spoken to all of the professors and arranged to pick up any assignments I'll be missing on-line. I'm going to go in on weekends to make up for the performances I'll miss in my voice and dance classes."

Rachel gaped in shock. "Cassie July is letting you make up a missed performance?"

"Yes. She liked that I took the initiative to ask, and apparently her own father went through something similar a few years ago, so she was sympathetic. And it's not like her disapproval would have stopped me from going. Dad is the most important thing in my life right now." Kurt looked over at Adam, his blue eyes wide as saucers. "Oh, I mean . . . not that _you_ aren't important!"

"Don't worry, love, I knew what you meant," Adam told him, stopping the anxious apology that was building in its tracks with a gentle kiss to Kurt's temple. Ever since Kurt had been cheated on for the crime of not making his life 100% about his boyfriend, he had been very insecure about whether he was giving those he cared about enough time and attention. It had likely been a large factor in his currently elevated stress level. "Of course your dad is going to be your number one priority right now. I'd expect nothing less, and if you need any help whatsoever in balancing your class load against the other parts of your life, then I hope you know that I'm more than happy to provide it. Study sessions, critiques, or just an ear to bend and a shoulder to cry on when things get overwhelming; any or all of them are yours for the asking."

Santana and Rachel nodded agreement, each reaching out to touch Kurt in silent support.

"I don't deserve you guys." Kurt's eyes welled up with grateful tears as he looked around at each of their earnest, kind faces. "Thank you," he whispered.

Eager to dispel the emotional moment before it could become uncomfortable, Santana loudly slapped her hands together and shoved back from the table. "All right, then, enough of the Lifetime movie of the week! I believe you have an appointment at the Lopez specialty nail salon. Polish is optional and all tips are gratefully accepted."

"A tip, huh? Here's one. That green dress you were wearing yesterday made you look like you were suffering from jaundice _and_ inflating your ass with a bicycle pump. My advice is to burn it at the earliest possible opportunity," Kurt offered calmly, hoping she would not notice him stealthily wiping moisture from the corners of his eyes.

Adam and Rachel appeared horrified by the harsh words, but Santana just looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "I had a feeling that dress wasn't working. In thanks, let me tell _you_ that your recent obsession with sweaters that look like they were knitted by half-blind old ladies with an obsession for macramé plant hangers is doing you no favors at all. You look like a fishing boat harvest gone wrong."

"Noted," he said calmly, rising from the dinner table and giving Adam a smile. "Would you like some help cleaning up before we begin?"

The blond man was now chuckling over their casual exchange of insults. "No, thanks. I've got it covered. You just enjoy yourself." Rachel made a half-hearted motion toward the remaining dishes, but Adam waved her away with a smile. "You, too. Go on. I've never experienced a facial or manicure before. I'm quite keen to observe and see exactly what's involved."

"Oh, Gumby, you may just have to turn in your gay-card after a statement like that," Santana warned with a smirk.

"Or you can just let me show you what you've been missing," Kurt offered, running his hand lightly down Adam's exposed shoulder and bicep. "I'd be more than happy to introduce you to the joys of hands-on relaxation."

Adam grinned at the tease. "And I will be more than pleased to take you up on that offer some evening. Just not this one. Tonight is all about making you feel better."

Kurt smiled and gave him a kiss. "Well, if you're going to twist my arm." He smiled at Santana. "Lead the way."

A few minutes later, Kurt was occupying the recliner, the car seat having been turned on to provide light vibration similar to a professional salon chair. His fingertips soaked in two bowls of softening solution and his feet in the portable foot bath, currently frothing busily with the bath salts Santana had added.

His still-damp bangs had been pulled off his forehead and into a cloth headband by Rachel and she now stood beside him, carefully applying the deep green and slightly lumpy aloe and oatmeal facial mixture to his skin. She spread the goop evenly over forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, then placed fresh cucumber slices over his eyes.

Kurt just smiled like a king on his throne, enjoying every moment of it.

Once he had finished doing the dishes, Adam removed his apron and wandered over to watch the fun. Santana immediately put him to work. She had place a low footstool next to the small bath and filed, buffed and smoothed her friend's already neatly maintained skin and nails to perfection, all the while keeping up a running commentary about his huge feet and how she hoped Adam was smart enough to be taking advantage of the benefits they implied.

"All right, Mister Masseuse," she snapped, drying her hands on a convenient towel. "Switch places. I'll finish his fingernails while you handle rubbing lotion into these two furry pipe-cleaners."

"Screw you, Satan. I happen to have very attractive legs," Kurt shot back, the words totally losing their intended venom to the blurry haze of pleasure he was under, as his feet, legs, forearms and hands were massaged by all three of his voluntary spa techs. He groaned softly when Adam's strong fingers kneaded a sore spot in his heel. "Wow. If I die, don't anybody try to revive me. This is as close to heaven as I'm ever likely to get."

They chuckled and went on with their work, giving him a few minutes longer than any professional establishment would have. Eventually, Rachel got up to remove the cucumbers and wash her hands before getting a warm, damp cloth, and sponging the half-dried mixture off of Kurt's face. Making sure he was completely clean, she applied a light exfoliate and then rubbed moisturizing lotion into his skin with tiny, soothing circular motions.

When the combination facial and mani/pedi were completed, Kurt made no effort to get up, just remained flopped in boneless comfort in the recliner. When Adam tried to coax him up with the reminder of his still pending body massage, Kurt opened his eyes. They lit up with approval when he saw that the other man's well-cut upper body was now on full display.

A sly smile lifted Kurt's lips and he pouted cutely at Adam. "I want to, but I can't move." He lifted his arms and made grabby hands. "Help me?"

The girls snickered and Santana lifted a fist and pretended to cough into it, *coff*_whipped_*coff* when Adam gallantly bent forward and lifted his boyfriend out of the chair, settling him into a close bridal carry.

Kurt just smirked right back at them over Adam's shoulder, sticking out his tongue like a little boy. "Goodnight, ladies! Thank you again for everything!"

"Goodnight, Kurt," they chorused, smiling as they watched their friend loop his arms around Adam's neck and settle in happily to be carried off to bed. Something his independent nature would normally disdain, but which he now appeared to be enjoying to the fullest.

Santana smiled. "Yeah, he's definitely going to be okay. Hey! Where do you think you're going, Berry? Help me clean up this mess."

"Oh, _fine_," Rachel sighed, aborting her intention to go watch some late evening television in favor of helping her roommate gather up the scattered beauty supplies. Sometimes other people just did not appreciate how lucky they were to have such a selfless friend as Rachel Barbra Berry. On the other hand, this menial labor _would_ help her capture the nuances of Fanny Brice's travails as a starving, underappreciated young artist…

**TBC **

**Comments please? The four I already have are lonely! :)  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay on this final chapter. I was honestly not expecting this to turn into Kadam!sexytimes. Hope nobody minds! I tried to pull them back from the ledge and force them keep this scene platonic with a rewrite, but it was no use. They were gonna do what they liked, in spite of the wishes of their long-suffering author. Enjoy!**

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Kurt's bedroom was at the far end of the loft, with privacy curtains separating him from Santana, and her from Rachel. It was not always the most comfortable arrangement. Curtains did not deflect noise the way that solid walls would have, but earplugs, iPhone buds and Kurt's white-noise machine managed to keep things civil between them all when one or more of the roommates had company for the night.

Adam carried his boyfriend back to his area with no sign of difficulty, Kurt deftly whipping the curtain shut behind them. He smiled and stroked the back of Adam's neck with his fingertips. "I'm impressed. You're very strong."

The other man shivered pleasantly at the contact. "You're very light to carry."

Kurt knew that could not be true. He might be slender, but he also carried a lot of lean muscle on his 5'11" frame. Not exactly a feather! Still, he accepted the compliment without any argument, nuzzling kisses into Adam's neck and jawline. He did not let go when his boyfriend settled him atop the mattress, instead tightening his grip and coaxing Adam to lie down on top of him and continuing to make out.

After a few minutes, Adam paused for breath, chuckling against Kurt's lightly swollen lips. "Aren't I supposed to be giving you a rub-down? I'm almost certain that was the purpose of our coming back here together."

"You offered me hands on relaxation. I'm feeling pretty damn relaxed right now," Kurt murmured, reminding Adam of his earlier teasing. His hands glided along the warm skin of Adam's back, tracing his spine and the thick, hard planes of his shoulders. Moving lower again, he slipped his fingertips beneath the waistband of Adam's trousers and traced his well-muscled cheeks, giving them a squeeze that made Adam grunt and instinctively press his hips against Kurt's. "Mmm, I'm sensing a little tension here. I think you may need some closer attention."

"Ah, yes, I believe you're right. There appears to be some tension here as well," Adam said, tugging the sash of Kurt's bathrobe free and pressing down again, swiveling his pelvis gently against the stiff bulge he found waiting for him. Kurt gasped and thrust up. "Oh, yes. I think we definitely need to rub this out."

Kurt paused and then burst into helpless giggling, hiding his face in Adam's shoulder. "Rub it out? I can't believe you just said that!"

Pleased by his reaction, Adam kissed Kurt's half-hidden face. "Ruining the mood, am I?"

Kurt looked up, still smiling as he stroked back locks of messy blond hair that had fallen into Adam's face. "Maybe just a little, but it's okay. I know that sex isn't exactly what you had planned for tonight."

"My only plan is to make you feel as good as I can, love. You're right that I had intended to only provide a nice soothing back massage, but if you require something a bit more than that, I'm certainly not opposed. I just don't want you to think that I only came up with this plan as a way to get into your pants."

"I don't think that at all. I just see no reason why we can't have. . ." He interrupted himself with a sudden deep yawn that left him looking a bit startled. "Both. Oh, my. Sorry about that. I guess all that good food and pampering is starting to get to me!"

Kissing him again, Adam said, "Why don't we just begin with the massage? We can make up for the rest at a later time."

His eyes filling with great tenderness, Kurt smiled. "I think I'd like that, though I also wouldn't object to more kissing if you're so inclined."

"I believe I can manage to do both. Like yourself, I am an excellent multi-tasker."

Instead of laughing, Kurt looked stricken. Adam instinctively gathered him into his arms again, allowing Kurt to hold on tight. They held each other for a long time, Adam rocking his boyfriend gently and instinctively making shushing noises even though Kurt did not appear to be crying, not questioning his sudden need for reassurance.

"I've been doing too much multi-tasking," Kurt eventually whispered into his neck, his voice quivering slightly. "It's just all felt like so much lately. Sometimes I wonder if I even did the right thing coming to New York. It's been my dream since forever, but my dreams didn't include running so hard I can never stop, or breathe. They never included being so far away from Dad when he needs me."

He took a deep breath that they could both hear shaking in his lungs. "But I do love it here, in spite of everything. I love being a part of the city, attending NYADA and being included in the high-fashion world of Vogue. I love feeling like an adult here, even though sometimes I'd rather just be a kid again." He loosened his hug enough to look into Adam's concerned eyes. "I love knowing you and having you in my life. I'm so sorry I haven't been making enough time for us lately, Adam."

"Kurt," Adam murmured, stroking the thick softly-curling hair at the back of Kurt's head, untamed by his usual bevy of products. "My dearest, Kurt. _Please_ don't be sorry. You've had so much on your mind lately; so many demands on your time. I'm amazed you've been able to keep it all in check as well as you have, especially all alone."

He sniffled and ducked his head. "I don't want to be alone any more. I don't want to be scared and stressed and . . . and freaked out by everything. I want to let you hold me like this and tell me that everything is going to be okay, and I want to believe it's true just because you say it is."

"Oh, darling," Adam breathed, pulling him close again. "Everything _is_ going to be all right. You're going through a rough patch, but you have me here to help you find a way through, I promise. I believe in my heart of hearts that your dad is going to pull through stronger than ever. That you are going to continue to wow both friends and foes alike at school and at Vogue, and that you are going to find your rhythm and balance everything in your life. All you need is time enough to work it all out. You're going to be just fine, and _we_ are going to be even better than fine. We'll be…"

"Brilliant?" he guessed with a small smile, a light of hope dawning in the greenish-gray pools of his startling ocean eyes.

Kissing the tip of his cute pointed nose, Adam nodded. "Brilliant."

"Will you stay with me tonight? Even if I fall asleep on you at some point? I'd love to spend the night in your arms and wake up to see your face in the morning."

Adam's smile could have outshone the sun. "I'd like nothing better. Now, up. I still owe you the world's finest massage." He lifted his weight off of Kurt's body and tugged his boyfriend to his feet. "Do we have something to protect your bedding from stray oil drips?"

Kurt looked relieved, clearly more than ready to get back to the fun portion of their evening. Without even bothering to search for a towel or some other covering, he shrugged out of his robe, spreading the thick, absorbent material wide across his silky blue duvet. He then grabbed the hem of his sleeveless undershirt and tugged the garment up over his head, leaving himself clad in only the red boxer-briefs. "How's that?"

"Well, I certainly approve," Adam teased, eying his newly exposed form with blatant appreciation. "Feel free to keep going if you like."

Brows lifting, Kurt considered his words for a moment. Then a mischievous smile dimpled his cheeks and he dropped his briefs as well, leaving Adam gaping while he calmly climbed back onto the bed and stretched out face-down in the middle. He wiggled his bare butt playfully when Adam continued to stand there ogling.

Adam shook his head briskly, trying to realign his thoughts. "Erm, well then! All right. Before we begin, one serious question. Are you cold at all? Would you like me to go fetch one of the space heaters for you?"

Kurt shook his head. "I'm very comfortable, thanks. I was actually a little too hot sitting out in that chair with air blowing at us from every direction."

"You can't help being hot, no matter what else may be happening around you," Adam replied cheekily, pulling a vial of scented oil from the pocket of his jeans. "And I should warn you that this massage may not be quite as good quality as I had originally intended, now that I've a sight like this one to distract me from my work."

Kurt grinned. "Oh, I think it will be just fine. In fact, feel free to get a little more _comfortable_ yourself."

"If you insist," he replied, getting into the spirit of Kurt's improved mood and dropping his jeans on the floor. He paused with his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, but when Kurt continued to watch him with eyes that were slowly transforming to a fascinating sapphire blue shade, licking his lips in anticipation, Adam decided to take the hint and join him in his all-natural state.

Kurt made a cute little sound of approval, wriggling a bit in anticipation. He uttered a soft sigh of contentment when Adam carefully straddled his legs and sat back, settling his weight lightly against Kurt's rear. Then warm, lightly callused fingers began spreading oil over Kurt's back, smoothing it in with long, firm strokes.

"Mmm, you're really good at this. Have you done it before?"

"Believe it or not, I once had a notion of becoming a licensed therapist, before an opportunity for a musical theater scholarship to a prestigious American University changed my budding career path. Shame really. I'd even been through a couple of classes. Not that it would have been a very happy career. I was already discovering that I didn't feel quite right about touching naked people of every age, weight and description."

Hearing the teasing in his voice, Kurt said, "Aww, poor thing. All those saggy old men and scary curvy women. You must have had nightmares."

"Precisely," he chuckled. "I much prefer adorable young men with lovely creamy skin that they take excellent care of and a delicious natural scent that makes me want to be ever closer to them."

"Do tell," Kurt said, closing his eyes and smiling when Adam bent forward and kissed the back of his neck.

"Young men with beautiful slender bodies, whose curves are confined only to certain, aesthetically appealing areas." His kisses moved south, raining in random pecks over Kurt's arms, shoulders and back as his hands moved lower, kneading into his lower back and the top curves of his ass. "Lean firm muscles, and just a bit of soft tawny body hair. Really, it was no use at all. I was entirely too particular about my prospective clientele. My business would have suffered terribly."

Kurt was laughing hard by now, necessitating Adam's hands to still around his waist to keep from toppling over sideways. "How lucky for me I just happen to fit your very stringent criteria!"

Adam bent forward again, tilting his neck so that he could place a light peck against Kurt's lips. "Isn't it, though?"

In spite of the sexy, playful banter, Adam did concentrate on his technique, soothing away weeks of built up knots and tension from Kurt's body. Kurt slowly relaxed under the skillful manipulation, an occasional gasp or moan directing Adam's actions and soon his boyfriend was all but melting into the bed.

"Feeling good?" Adam asked with a smile.

"_So_ good," he mumbled. "I can think of a way for you to make me feel even better, though."

Adam did not even have to ask as he felt the press of Kurt's backside against his cock, which had been instinctively hardening throughout the massage as it came into occasional glancing contact with his boyfriend's nude body.

"Are you certain you want it this way, love?"

Adam could and did go either way when it came to sex, but Kurt tended to be more comfortable with the top position. Adam suspected it was because that position allowed him to retain greater control, as well as being a subtle middle-finger to the expectations of all the people around him who seemed to assume that "effeminate gay" automatically equated "woman/bottom". Even Santana, who openly scoffed at the misogynistic stereotypes of the world around her, constantly called Kurt names like "lady" without giving it a second thought, either not noticing or not caring how much it irritated him. Although, considering their lovingly antagonistic relationship, it was possible that she only did it _because_ it irritated him.

Kurt nodded. "As long as you don't mind."

Dabbling a light line of oil upon his cock, Adam smoothed it over the surface to make himself slick, then changed position so that he could slide smoothly between the firm globes of his boyfriend's ass. Kurt smiled and canted his rear a bit higher.

"Of course I don't mind. I told you earlier, tonight is all about making you feel good. Whatever you need me to do, you have only to say it."

Spreading his body lightly over Kurt's, Adam slipped one arm around his slender waist and rolled them over onto their left sides, allowing Kurt to lift his right leg higher to rest atop Adam's as it bent forward, giving him better leverage to pump between Kurt's cheeks. Kurt keened quietly, a happy, hungry sound, in response to the sensation of Adam's hardness sliding against his entrance.

He turned his head and met Adam's lips. "Fingers," he mumbled, shifting his body to get even more of the contact.

Adam obeyed promptly, helping himself to a bit more oil and preparing Kurt slowly and gently for more intimate contact. Kurt, after fishing a condom out of his bedside drawer, just settled into his touch, relaxed into it with soft grunts and murmurs of pleasure and encouragement.

"Ready, love?"

"I've never been so ready," he groaned, instinctively shoving back against Adam as his fingers pulled away.

Adam applied the condom swiftly and got into position, pressing Kurt's body forward with both arms wrapped securely around him as he slowly pushed inside.

Kurt clutched at his forearms, instinctively rutting against the smooth surface of his bed. The bathrobe had shifted higher as they moved atop it, but he found that he could not worry about the fate of his expensive bedding, not with his boyfriend holding him so close and massaging his inner muscles as skillfully as he had done the rest.

"Oh! Please, yes. _Again_," he begged, rolling his hips helplessly when Adam struck the perfect spot, sending tingles throughout his entire body.

It took a couple of tries, Adam being more accustomed to guiding than searching, but then he found what he was looking for and began to thrust more surely, drawing forth choked cries of pleasure with every one.

Kurt did his best to muffle the noises into his pillow, not wanting to treat his roommates to free audio-porn. Then Adam's right hand slid down from his stomach to his cock, squeezing and pumping in perfect counterpoint and Kurt forgot all about being polite. "Fuck! Oh! Ah . . . aah . . . _aaahh_!"

He came with a high note that would have drawn a standing ovation from his NYADA peers, clamping down hard on Adam and drawing him to his own conclusion. He uttered no cries of his own. Adam was not a screamer. He, by contrast, went quiet when he hit his peak and began gasping, his breath escaping in little sobs with every ripple of pleasure.

Both men sagged tiredly into the mattress as the aftershocks wore off. When Adam eventually went soft and slipped free of his body, Kurt wriggled around to face him, wrapping his arms around that strong, firm body and holding him tight. "Thank you," he whispered, pressing his lips to the hollow of Adam's throat. "I really needed that. All of it. Everything that's happened tonight. I know it was all your idea."

Adam kissed him gently. "I'm quite certain I remember this last bit as being your idea, and an excellent one it was too." He chuckled when Kurt pinched his side. "You're welcome, darling. I hope your friends and I were able to help you feel better, in whatever manner we served."

"You did," he agreed, snuggling closer, unmindful of his sticky, oily body or their continued exposure. "I love you, Adam. That's not post-coital bliss talking, either. I really do love you."

For a moment he said nothing in reply. Then a soft sniffle gave him away. Kurt looked up, his eyes tender as he wiped away a tear from Adam's cheek.

"I love you, too," he managed at last, gulping down the choke of happy tears. "So very much."

Eventually, they got up, using a clean section of the already ruined robe – which had thankfully managed to catch most of Kurt's climax after all – to clean themselves up. Then the two lovers crawled between the clean sheets together, not bothering with pajamas, and immediately gravitated back into each others arms as the pull of slumber overcame them.

It would be the most restful night's sleep Kurt could ever remember having.

**THE END**


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